


kill your darlings

by orphan_account



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, First Kiss, How Do I Tag, M/M, slight angst, tons of poetry shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 11:49:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12320505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Eighteen year old Archie Andrews enters Colombia University and meets nineteen year old Jughead Jones. Shenanigans ensue.aka the Kill Your Darlings AU literally no one asked for





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> first work ever posted! i'm new here, and hopefully i didn't mess up lol. enjoy!

“ _World News Today._   _American daylight bombers were busy again, as our liberators with fighter escort continue the air offensive with another sock at German coastal installations in France. Mud and slush are hampering the Russian armies from Estonia to the Black Sea, but the Germans report a big new red army push toward Romania._

 

 _A dispatch in Turkey says that the Germans have begun another general offensive against the Yugoslav Partisans, and, in the Pacific, American troops on Los Negro_ _—”_

 

Archie walked up to the radio and turned one of the knobs, switching the station to a more upbeat song. He danced joyfully to the music with a broom on his hand, tapping the bristles on their living room’s floor to the beat of the music.

 

A door slammed behind him, and his dad walked into the room. Archie stopped dancing, looking at him like a deer caught in headlights, but Fred Andrews paid no attention to what he was doing. Fred dropped a small pile of mail on the coffee table, and sat on the couch, sighing tiredly after a long day at the construction site.

 

“Uh, any mail for me?” Archie asked while lowering the volume of the music.

 

“Why? You expecting something?” Fred said. Archie looked down, avoiding his dad’s gaze.

 

“No, no,” he lied.

 

———

 

Archie sat on the front porch steps, staring at nothing in particular. The faint sound of jazz from someone else’s house filled the air. The front door opened, and Archie turned around only to see his dad. A letter was being held.

 

“Were you gonna tell me that you applied?” Fred said, sounding a little angry and disappointed. Archie looked away and pursed his lips. Fred sat next to him, and looked at Archie with a serious expression. The jazz that’s been playing in the background ended a few moments ago, a new song replacing it.

 

“Remember when I told you I was in a band?” Fred said. Archie chuckled softly.

 

“The Fred Heads, right?”

 

“With FP Jones,” Fred added. “We were so bad, but that didn’t stop the girls from coming after us.”

 

“I saw that video of you guys that mom filmed,” Archie said in a teasing voice. Fred huffed out a breath of embarrassment. “The song sounded… okay.”

 

“Hey, I wrote the goddamn song. Alright?” Archie smiled, and Fred handed him the letter. Archie took it, feeling somewhat surprised. “Why don’t you… go write your own?”

 

**_Columbia University_ **

**_In the City of New York_ **

**_UNDERGRADUATE ADMISSIONS_ **

 

Archie tore the envelope open by the flap. His dad watched him expectantly, Archie mouthed the words as he read the letter. A smile appeared on Archie’s face, and he nodded his head.

 

“I got in. The university,” Archie said, laughing.

 

“You got in?” Fred half-yelled happily. “You got into Columbia!”

 

“Yeah!” Fred pulled Archie into a hug, with Archie still grinning broadly. They’re both happy, and the neighbours were probably wondering what the ruckus was about, but neither of them cared at the moment.

 

———

 

Columbia University was  _huge_ , and Archie felt a little intimidated. He stood in front of the library after settling in his dorm room and meeting his roommate, and took a look around. Many students were walking up and down the stairs, while others lingered around the base chatting in small groups. The library itself was impressive, and it puts Riverdale’s Thornhill Mansion to shame. Taking a deep breath, he entered the library for a tour.

 

———

 

“The South Hall library is a church, and these are the sacraments,” the tour guide said. “Original folios of the most important texts in history.”

 

The group of tourists, Archie included, peered inside the museum-like vitrines. “‘Beowulf.’ First folio. ‘Hamlet.’ The Gutenberg Bible. These are among the university’s prized possessions.” He looked at Archie. “Hands off the glass.”

 

Archie removed his hands off the glass. A loud thud caught the group’s attention, and they all turned towards the direction of the sound. A man around Archie’s age stood on a table with a book in hand. The table lamp was still wiggling from the vibrations. A grey crown beanie sat comfortably on his head, his dark bangs popping out underneath it. He wore an unbuttoned dark blue jacket with a black shirt tucked in his sand coloured pants. The beanie looked out of place, but he still, somehow, pulled it off.

 

“Let’s hear a bit, shall we?” the man declared.

 

“ _On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less of a big..._ ” The man got on his knees and thrusted the lamp in between his legs. “ _... cancerous…_ ” He glanced up at the stunned group. “ _...cock._ ”

 

The man laid on the table with a loud groan. Many of the tourists were speechless, and the tour guide looked confused. The others in the library were just as shocked as the group. Archie, however, looked amused.

 

“What is this nonsense?” An old woman, presumably a librarian, walked towards the man with an  _I’m-done-with-this_  expression.

 

“Henry Miller,” the man replied, twirling the book on his hand as he sat up.

 

“Get down immediately, that book is restricted.”

 

“Which is why I committed it to memory.”

 

“Security!”

 

The man immediately leapt off the table in front of Archie. Two security guards appeared out of the entrance of which the tour group came from.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” one of the guards yelled. The man turned to the other direction and started to run away.

 

“Alert the press!” the man yelled. “Tell them Jughead Jones is innocent!”

 

The two security guards chased the man, Jughead Jones, out off the library. The room was stunned to silence.

 

“That was highly unusual,” the tour guide said. The others chuckled nervously. “Campus is actually quite quiet. Moving on!”

 

———

 

“ _Reports from the front say the Nazis are wheeling up fresh—_ ”

 

“Shut the books. We’re taking my brother with us to the social. He ships out tomorrow,” his roommate said, applying cologne to himself.

 

“I can’t,” Archie said, turning to face his roommate. “You see how much I have to do.”

 

“He’s Navy! It’s catnip for the skirts.” His roommate wore his jacket, and looked at Archie before leaving. Archie didn’t leave his seat. “Pfft. You really are all about work, huh?”

 

As his roommate shutted the door, soft music started up down the hall. His ears picked up the tune. Clarinet, strings. He knew this, no wonder it sounded familiar. It was the same Brahms Betty has.

 

Unable to to concentrate on his poetry homework (he took it because music is a type of poetry, after all. It might help him), and feeling guilty of not telling Betty that he has left to go to university, he stood up from his seat and left the room. He started walking towards the direction of music. He passed by two people who were tugging their jackets on, probably heading to the social. The music was getting louder with each step, and he entered the room where the music was coming from.

 

The first thing he saw was Jughead Jones, the same man from earlier today, smoking a cigarette while looking at the newspaper. He looked up at Archie.

 

“Brahms?” Archie said, and Jughead smiled. His stomach did small somersaults and he did not know why.

 

“Finally,” Jughead said. He looked at Archie from head to toe. “An oasis in this wasteland.”

 

“So, how come you’re not at the social?”

 

“Oh, only the most antisocial have to go to an event actually called one.” Jughead stood up. “Want a drink?”

 

“What, you drink in your room?” Archie sounded surprised.

 

“How about a horrible bottle of Chianti sound?” Jughead suggested while looking over the bottle in his hand. He removed the lid with a  _pop_  and grabbed two glasses for him and Archie.

 

“I-I don’t drink,” Archie said. Jughead smiled at him.

 

“Freshman?” Archie nodded. “Excellent. I love first times. I want my entire life to be composed of them.” He handed the glass to Archie and began to pour. “Life is only interesting if life is wide.”

 

They clinked their glasses, and Jughead looked at Archie directly into his eyes; deep blue eyes with flecks of green and brown. Jughead drank, but Archie didn’t.

 

“Uh, how’s your Yeats?” Jughead asked. “Have you read ‘A Vision?’”

 

Archie suddenly felt sheepish, because he didn’t know what he was talking about. “Uh, never heard of either of them.”

 

Jughead didn’t take it to his offense, though. “Oh, it’s brilliant and impossible. He says that life is… round. That we’re stuff on this wheel of living and dying. An endless circle.”

 

He fumbled around his drawers and fished out a book. Jughead flipped through the pages and handed it to Archie. On the page contained a circle with some pictures that Archie didn’t understand. He guessed that was the wheel of living and dying.

 

Now that he thought about it, he only came to this room to tell the person playing Brahms to tone it down a little. And now the man is telling him about life and wheels while drinking wine.

 

“Until… someone breaks it,” Jughead continued, which startled Archie slightly. “You walked in here, you ruptured the pattern.  _Bang_. The whole world—”

 

“Gets wider?” Archie guessed. Jughead turned to him, looking pleasantly surprised.

 

“How did you..?”

 

“I guessed.” Archie shrugged, and raised his eyebrows at Jughead’s expression.

 

“Are you a writer?” Jughead asked, his own smile tugging on his lips. “‘Cause I’ve got a job for a writer.”

 

“Does it count if I write music?”

 

“A writer is a writer, nonetheless.” A new cigarette hung loosely on Jughead’s lips as he lit it. Something about Jughead tugged something in his heart, and Archie blushed faintly.

 

“Andrews!”

 

A shout from the hallway interrupted their little moment. Another “Andrews!” made Archie snap out of his haze.

 

“ _What!?_ ” Archie shouted back.

 

“Phone call!”

 

“Is that you?” Jughead questioned.

 

“Yeah. Archie Andrews,” he said, introducing himself. “I’ll be back.”

 

Archie left the room and walked up to the phone, muttering a quick “thanks” to the man. “Hello?”

 

“Archie.” It was Betty. She sounded distressed and he could hear her sniffle on the other end. “Where are you? I need you right now, where are you?”

 

Archie hesitated before answering, “I’m at Columbia University.”

 

“I know that, otherwise I wouldn’t call this number,” Betty said. “I asked your dad. Look, can you come by tonight?”

 

Well, that answered Archie’s question. He bit his lip and asked, “Why?”

 

“It’s Polly.” He heard Betty took a shuddering breath. “She-she’s being taken away. I overheard mom and dad talking about it. I need you to help me convince them. Please.”

 

Betty’s crying now. “Where are your parents?”

 

“Not home, at work. Look, can you come now?”

 

Archie was a bit taken back. “I can’t come home, it’s the first day.”

 

“I don’t feel good..”

 

Archie noticed Jughead walking downstairs. “Are you going to the dance?” he whispered.

 

“Downtown,” Jughead replied with a smirk.

 

“Now?”

 

“Who are you talking to?” Betty asked.

 

“A friend,” he said. “Look, I will be there as soon as I can.”

 

“I need you tonight. I need you to promise me.”

 

Archie looked over at Jughead, who motioned for him to come. “I promise. Stay strong, Betty, okay? Bye.”

 

Archie hung up and ran after Jughead. He smiled at Archie and threw his jacket . “Coming?”

 

———

 

“ _In the distance, I heard a sound; the sound of marching men…_ ”

 

Three people at a bar: Archie, Jughead, and his friend Veronica Lodge. Currently, only Archie and Veronica were seated. Jughead was off to grab a shot or something. Archie and Veronica talked amongst themselves, learning more about each other. Veronica was charismatic and confident, yet empathetic and caring towards others, especially Jughead. She had the wits and the sarcastic remarks that Jughead seemed to enjoy. She was born here at New York, and Archie told her that he was from the small town of Riverdale.

 

“Really? What a coincidence!” Veronica sipped her drink. “My mom’s from Riverdale!”

 

Jughead slid next to Archie when he returned. “Some ear job at the bar just called me ‘kid.’ So, I stole his drink.” He swirled a glass of whiskey. Archie shot him a brief dirty look, and Jughead flashed him a grin in return.

 

Veronica looked over Archie’s shoulder. “That’s Ogden Nash!”

 

The two boys looked at where Veronica pointed at. There was an old man chatting with another old man, and Archie knitted his eyebrows in confusion while Jughead gazed at him, unimpressed.

 

“Who’s Ogden Nash?” Archie asked.

 

“The best selling poet in the country.”

 

“Clearly not the best if Archie here have never heard of him,” Jughead commented. “Maybe you’ve heard of this one.  _The girl who is bespectacled, she may not get her nectacled. But safety pins and bassinets—_ ”

 

“ _Await the girl who fassinets_ ,” Veronica finished, lighting Jughead’s cigarette. “Certainly the quality content America has been waiting for.”

 

“That’s what he’s selling. Ugh, I’ll kill him.”

 

“Aim for the throat,” Veronica muttered.

 

Archie laughed. Jughead coughed and said, “No, we’re not going to kill him,” which caught the other two’s attention. “Even better, we’re going to make sure nobody remembers him. How many men started the Renaissance?”

 

“Two,” Archie answered.

 

“And the Romantics?”

 

“More I suspect than this theory accommodates,” Veronica said.

 

“We’re sending millions to Europe to fight the fascists, but they’re here. Meter, and rhyme—”

 

“And Professor Steeves,” Arche mentioned, who was their poetry professor, an old man with a sagging face and thin rimmed glasses.

 

“Yes! They’re all guards in some prison. Let’s make the prisoners come out and play. Let’s come up with new words, new rhythms.” Jughead paused for a second before saying, “We need a name. How did they come up with Dada?”

 

“Tristan Tzara jabbed a knife into a dictionary,” Veronica said, sipping her drink.

 

“Shit. So that’s been done.”

 

“A literary revolution without writing a word. Neat trick, Jug.”

 

“Well, I’m listening for  _your_  ideas, V.”

 

“What about Yeats?” Archie asked. The raven-haired duo turned to him. “The ‘New Vision.’”

 

Jughead smirked at him, and Archie felt a small burst of joy in his chest. “Ah, Archie. You’re hired.”

 

———

 

The two men stumbled on the sidewalk, with Jughead’s arm slung around Archie’s shoulders as he tried to support him. Jughead was reciting a poem out loud, his words slurring and Archie watching him with a huge grin on his face. They fell backwards, and Jughead laughed as he finished the phrase and Archie remembered his promise from last night.

 

“Shit.”

 

“It’s Rambaud. Overwritten, I know. He’s allowed.”

 

“No. My friend. This is bad. This is very bad.” Archie began to stand up, pushing Jughead off of his lap.

 

“What is?”

 

“She’s going to be furious.”

 

“Don’t go, then.” Archie looked at him like he’s crazy.

 

“You don’t understand, I have to.”

 

“Why?”

 

“It’s complicated.”

 

Jughead stood up and faced Archie. “Perfect,” he said, smirking. “I love complicated.”

 

———

 

Archie entered the Cooper’s household with Jughead trailing behind him. “Betty?”

 

“We’ll alert you if her condition changes,” a man said to Alice Cooper, who’s signing something on a clipboard. Betty sat on the couch, not looking at Archie when he walked in.

 

“What’s going on?” Archie asked

 

“Your sister needs her rest,” Alice said to her younger daughter. Betty didn’t say anything, she sat there, motionless.

 

Polly entered the living room with a male nurse, who was making sure that she wasn’t going to run. There was a visible bump on her belly, and Archie immediately realized that she was pregnant. “You can’t do this,” he said to Alice.

 

“Where were you?” Archie turned to Betty.

 

“I was out… with a friend.” Archie felt remorseful and he started to tremble. Jughead looked away, knowing that he was the reason why Archie wasn’t able to go earlier.

 

“I called you!”

 

“I know.”

 

“It’s time to go, Ms. Cooper,” the nurse said, placing a hand on Polly’s arm as she was being ushered out.

 

“No, you’re not leaving.” Archie tried to grab Polly, but the man pushed him away.

 

“She already signed the papers,” Polly whispered sadly.

 

“Ms. Cooper, don’t—”

 

“It’s for the best.” Alice wore a blank expression, and Archie couldn’t even believe that she was doing this to her daughter.

 

“It’s for your best,” he countered.

 

“It’s for her best! It’s not for my best, it’s for her best!” Archie managed to grab a hold of Polly, preventing her from moving further. Betty watched the scene and Jughead stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Polly started to cry as the nurse tried to pry Archie off her.

 

“Get off!” Archie snapped. The nurse backed away. Archie faced her with each hand on her shoulders. He didn’t know what to say.

 

“Good luck in Colombia, Archie.” Polly gave him one last teary smile before she was taken out of the house.

 

Archie looked down, trying not to let tears fall from his his eyes. He felt very guilty and ashamed of himself. He looked at Alice, who’s blank expression was starting to show emotion, and at Betty, who covered her face as she cried. Mr. Cooper was nowhere to be seen.

 

Jughead could only watch.

 

———

 

Jughead sat on the Cooper’s front porch, smoking another cigarette. Archie walked up to him, and Jughead looked down as he sat down next to him. He sat close to Jughead, their shoulders touching.

 

“Complicated enough?” Archie murmured, loud enough for Jughead to hear. “They’re like sisters to me.”

 

Silence.

 

“At least you have them,” Jughead said softly. Archie glanced at him, confused. “My mother left me when I was four. She took my sister with her, and left me with my alcoholic father. I haven’t fully trusted someone since.”

 

Jughead laid on the porch, puffing out smoke, and Archie followed suit (lying on the porch, not smoking). Jughead faced the night sky, and Archie turned his head to face Jughead.

 

“I was reading that book I forgot to give back to you.” Jughead snorted. “I was thinking about what Yeats said. To be reborn, we have to die first.”

 

Jughead faced him. “What do you suggest?”

 

———

 

“I spent my entire life making people happy,” Archie spoke quickly.

 

Archie and Jughead stood on chairs in Jughead’s dorm room. There was a noose around each boy's neck; Jughead’s was already done, and was watching Archie adjust his as he talk. “It’s time I find happiness the only way I see possible.”

 

“Oh, please! Die already!” Jughead teased. “Where’s the verve? The brio?” Jughead kicked his record player lightly, and the music came to a halt.

 

“I don’t know what those words mean.”

 

Jughead ignored what he said. “If it be that I am indulging my self-consciousness in justifying myself, or if it be—”

“That’s a run on,” Archie pointed out.

 

“Oh, don’t edit me!” Jughead pushed Archie, forgetting that there were nooses tied around their necks.

 

“Oh, fuck!”

 

Jughead tried to pull Archie up, but instead he accidently slipped off of his chair, and now both men are hanging in Jughead’s dorm room, struggling to receive oxygen. The chairs got toppled over by their kicking feet.

 

Luckily, due to their combined weight, the shower pole where the nooses were tied to were starting to split. Eventually, it broke and Jughead and Archie landed Jughead’s bed. They gasped for air, and looked at each other. They started laughing at their near-death experience.

 

———

 

“We have the map. We have the manifesto. We need the work.” Jughead drank some of the ‘horrible Chianti’ after reading Archie’s attempt of a sonnet. “I was wrong.”

 

Archie stood there.

 

“Maybe you’re not up to this, after all.” Drank some more.

 

Archie glared at Jughead, and yelled, “Show me your fucking map!” He started to rummage around Jughead’s desk.

 

“Mm!” Jughead almost choked on his drink. “Stop!”

 

Archie flipped through a notebook. It was filled with mindless doodles. “There’s nothing here, because you spend your time drinking and smoking, and Veronica’s not here to help you write it.”

 

“You don’t understand,” Jughead yelled back. “It’s complicated.”

 

“I love complicated.”

 

Jughead stared at him for a moment before turning away, pinching the bridge of his nose. He faced Archie again. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

Jughead crashed on his bed, finishing off the rest of the Chianti. Archie sat beside him. “You know that you can trust me, right?”

 

Jughead didn’t say anything. Instead, he flopped on Archie’s lap, his head on his knee and grabbing Archie’s leg, passing out from the liquor. “Right now, I just need you to write us something beautiful,” Jughead murmured. “First thought, best thought.”

 

Archie gazed at Jughead, and ran his fingers through his Jughead’s hair, making sure not to go under the beanie. His hair was surprisingly soft for someone who doesn’t clean his room. He moved his fingers in a light, soothing movement before Jughead whirled his head around to look at Archie.

 

His fingers touched his cheeks. Jughead craned his neck, and sucked on one of Archie’s fingers, all while eyeing Archie. Thunder claps in the distance.

 

Jughead fell asleep soon after that. Archie felt aroused.

 

———

 

Archie held the phone by his ear, listening to it ring as he waited for his dad to answer.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey, dad.” Archie smiled.

 

“Archie.” He could hear the joy in his dad’s voice. “How are you? How’s school?”

 

“Good. Made some friends. I was just calling to check on you.”

 

Fred chuckled. “Well, I’m doing okay. Still not used to coming home without the music station on.”

 

“Are you fine with being alone?”

 

“I can handle the stuff here, Archie. I’m barely home, anyways. You focus on your studies.”

 

A pause.

 

“How’s Betty holding up?”

 

“She’s.. sort of okay. Trying to get Polly back, but she’s coping.”

  
  
“That’s good to hear. Tell her that I’ll call her soon.”

 

“Will do.”

 

———

 

“Hey, Arch!”

 

Joaquin, another one of Jughead’s friend, held a football in one hand and beer bottle in the other. His hair was slicked back, and he was wearing a sweater. He aimed the football towards Archie.

 

“No, no,” Archie said.

 

“Come on.”

 

“No.” Archie waved his hands ‘no,’ but Joaquin still threw the ball. It missed him, thankfully, but it hit the painting on the wall and the painting fell. The painting itself got separated from the frame, and the frame fell through Archie’s head.

 

“Ooh, fumble.”

 

Jughead giggled as he removed the frame off of Archie.

 

“Joaquin, what was that?” a man yelled through another room.

 

“The damn cat!”

 

The said cat meowed on the floor, not understanding what was happening. “He made it. Say nothing,” Joaquin whispered. He walked up to Archie and placed the painting back to the frame, and tried hanging it back on the wall. He did it, sort of. It was hanging vertically instead of horizontally. Archie looked at Jughead, who found everything that has happened amusing.

 

“What do you think?” Jughead asked, mentioning the pile of paper that’s on Archie’s lap. He was drinking again. “It’s brilliant, no?”

 

Archie did read a few pages. There were some noticeable mistakes. “It’s missing some periods and commas.”

 

“It’s better than anything you have ever written,” Jughead countered as he took a sip.

 

“I use periods and commas,” Archie mumbled.

 

Kevin, Joaquin’s boyfriend, walked into the living room, and saw Jughead and Archie on the couch. Archie looked at him wide-eyed, and Jughead gave him a small wave. “I didn’t know we were having guests,” Kevin said.

 

“C’mon, guys,” Joaquin said, walking away to grab his jacket.

 

“Uh, where are you going?” Kevin called out.

 

“Out!”

 

“Out? You always go out!”

 

“Yeah, well the stuff you make here is unholy!”

 

Kevin looked offended. “That’s funny. You talk like a Catholic, but you fuck  _me_ , who is a  _guy_. How does that work!?”

 

“Shut your mouth, Kevin.”

  
  
“I thought you liked it wide open?”

 

Archie looked away from the argument with wide eyes, shocked. Jughead made a face, his mouth forming a small ‘o.’ He tried not to laugh.

 

Joaquin walked away from Kevin, and Kevin glared at the two men. “Scram.”

 

They did, and Jughead took the bottle of wine with him as he walked out.

 

———

 

“So, Arch,” Joaquin said as they strolled by the riverside park. “You thought my novel was shit.”

 

Jughead was drinking the bottle, but that wasn’t surprising the other two.

 

“Not exactly,” Archie said. “It’s not what I would choose.” He didn’t want to admit that he didn’t know half of what the novel was about.

 

“It’s all true,” Jughead said, talking about the book. “Joaquin served in the Merchant Marines.”

 

“I left school twice already. Colombia’s full of squares. Not even sure why I bothered to come back.”

 

“Why don’t you just ship out again?” Archie said sarcastically.

 

“Trust me, sometimes when I fight with Kevin, I want to,” Joaquin admitted. Archie caught the tone of guilt in his voice.

 

A ship’s horn blew from the water, and Jughead spun his head to the direction of the horn. Something caught his eye. “Well you two did just fight.”

 

The other two looked at the direction where Jughead was looking at; a small dock with a lone dinghy floating on the water. Joaquin seemed to take the hint.

 

“Jones, you’re goddamn, crazy.” But Joaquin was smiling. Jughead and Joaquin ran towards the dinghy, and Archie hesitated before running after them.

 

———

 

“A ‘new vision.’ Yeah, sounds phony.”

 

The trio sat on the dinghy, with Joaquin rowing. Usually, the river was busy with boats, but it was midnight, and there was only one or two of them on water right now. It’s quiet at this late in the night. Archie was worried about getting caught, but the other two didn’t seem to care.

 

“Movements are cooked up by people who can’t write about the people who can,” Joaquin continued.

 

“I don’t think he gets what we’re trying to do,” Archie said to Jughead.

 

“Listen to me,” Joaquin said, looking at Archie. “This whole town's full of finks on the 30th floor, writing pure chintz. Writers… A real writer’s, gotta be in the beds. Down the trenches, and all the broken places. What're your trenches, Arch?”

 

“Archie,” Archie corrected.

 

“Right.”

 

Archie looked over at Jughead for help. He shrugged. “First thought, best thought.”

 

“Fuck you! What does that even mean?” Jughead giggled again.

 

“That’s good, that’s one,” Joaquin said. “What else?”

 

Archie thought for moment before saying, “Fuck your one million words!” He doesn’t even know what he’s saying.

 

“Yes, even better!”

 

Archie paused. “You don’t know me.”

 

“You’re right. Who is ‘you?’”

 

Jughead’s loving this, and raised an eyebrow. Archie pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket; a poem that he wrote with the help of Veronica. He stood up and balanced himself so that he won’t fall into the river.

 

“Be careful, you are not in Wonderland,” Archie started. “I’ve heard the strange madness long growing in your soul. But you are fortunate.”

 

Jughead perked up, realizing that this poem is about  _him_. Archie continued.

 

“In your ignorance, in your isolation, you who have suffered. Find where love hides. Give. Share. Lose. Lest we die unbloomed.”

 

No one said a word when he finished, just the sound of water filling the silence. Feeling completely vulnerable, Archie sat back down. Did he mess up?

 

“Archie,” Joaquin said softly. “That was beautiful, kid.”

 

Archie started to smile. He didn’t mess up.

 

“You wrote that?” Jughead asked.

 

Archie nodded. “You asked me to.”

 

A beat. “Forget Columbia,” Jughead started. He moved to sit next to Joaquin. “Forget Ogden Nash. Here’s the plan, boys. We join the Merchant Marines, sail the world until the war ends. Then, jump ship, and make it to Paris for the liberation.”

 

“You don’t speak French,” Archie commented.

 

“Well, shit, but who cares?” It’ll be us together at the beginning. It’ll be the perfect day.”

 

They all looked at each other, smiling. They didn’t get caught.

 

———

 

Jughead, Archie, Joaquin, and Veronica were at the Main Hall of the library. All four of them spied on the permission desk. The permission librarian stamped a permission slip, and placed a key ring in a drawer. She headed off, and a young page replaced her position.

 

“We need the key,” Jughead said. “That’s the key for the restricted section.”

 

“What will we do?” Joaquin asked. A man walked up to her, speaking in hushed whispers, and the page giggled. Jughead smirked, an idea popping in his mind.

 

“We have to seduce her.”

  
  
“I’ll go,” Archie offered. He left the table, and Jughead and Joaquin shared the same, confused expression. Veronica watched him go.

 

“Hi. Uh, I wondered if you could help me,” Archie said, walking up to the permission desk.

 

“Sure.” The page smiled.

 

“I’m looking for a book.”

 

“Okay.” A beat. “Does this book have a title?”

 

 _Shit_ . “Yes. Yes, um, it’s called…”  _Quick, come up with something_. “The Day… Amanda Came.”

 

_Is that even a book?_

 

Jughead snorted, and Veronica returned to her book, disappointed.

 

“Ah.” Archie nodded. Both of them felt awkward, he can sense it. “Well, um… you have to wait. I can’t leave the desk.”

 

Veronica walked away for a moment. Archie glanced at Jughead, and caught him muttering, “Fuck.”

 

“I really need it,” Archie said. The page started to nod.

 

“Okay.” The page looked around, and placed a sign that read “Helping a reader. Back in 5 minutes.” “Only for you.”

 

Archie and the page started walking towards the restricted section. Archie turned around and gave Jughead a signal before the two of them left the Main Hall.

 

———

 

Jughead jumped over the desk. He opened the drawer, only to see paperclips and broken pencils. No keys.

 

“Shit.”

 

———

  
“So working here must be a drag.”

 

Archie and the page walked through the restricted section, the keys dangling on the page’s fingers. Archie eyed the keys.

 

“I like it,” the page said. “It’s the only way I meet boys. They’re very, very strict at Barnard.”

 

“Oh, really? How strict?”

 

“Well, for example, they would never let me do this.” The page lifted her shirt up, revealing her brassiere.

 

“Right,” Archie stuttered. “No.”

 

———

 

Jughead peeked up behind the desk, only to see Veronica staring at him.

 

“Go,” Veronica said to Jughead. Joaquin watched.

 

Jughead raced into the restricted section after Archie.

 

———

 

“Did you know I’ve never done it with someone who was a redhead before?” The page was talking quickly, and she sounded giddy. She inched closer to Archie and started to unbuckle his belt. “I’m really excited to see what it looks like.”

“Oh, well uh…” Archie felt uncomfortable and stopped her.

 

“I’m sorry. I thought you were saying something, but not... saying it. Uh, should we find your book?”

 

Archie saw Jughead through a gap in the stacks. “The key,” Jughead mouthed.

 

Archie realized that he has to do this. “There is no book. Take it off.”

 

“Really?” Archie nodded. The page set the keys down and undid her cardigan. Jughead nabbed the keys and ran back to the Main Hall.

 

“You. You take it off,” the page said, motioning her sweater.

 

“Oh, okay.”

 

———

 

Jughead gave the key ring to Veronica, who placed the restricted section’s key into a clay molding to make an impression.

 

They’ll need it for later on tonight.

 

———

 

“I’m not a virgin,” the page said hastily. “I’ve done it with four guys already."

 

Archie nodded along, and the page crashes her lips onto Archie’s. He let her take the lead.

 

“You’re kind of a virgin, huh?”

 

“No,” Archie lied.

 

“Liar. See, if you have done it before, you’ll last for thirty seconds. Start counting.”

 

The page gets down on her knees, and unbuttoned Archie’s pants. Archie felt uncomfortable, but she started to suck, taking all of him in. He started counting after fumbling a little on the spot. “One… Two…”

 

Jughead walked in right at that moment. They made eye contact; the page hasn’t noticed him. “Three…”

 

Jughead leaned against the stacks, watching him. Archie started to get aroused. Jughead flashed him a wicked grin. “Four…”

 

“Five… Six… Seven…” The deep, blue eyes are now sea green. His eyes flickered down for a moment before looking back at Archie’s. “Eight…”

 

Archie’s heart stuttered. Heat pooled below his stomach and he grabbed the page’s hair to steady himself. “Nine… Oh…”

 

Jughead looked amused as he settled the key ring back on the spot, and walked away. The page rose back up after Archie came. “Hmm. I knew it. I bet you don’t even read,” she said, unimpressed. She picked the key ring up and walked away.

 

“I do,” Archie muttered to himself as he dressed himself. He looked for Jughead, but he was gone.

 

He would’ve lasted longer than thirty seconds if it wasn’t for Jughead.

 

———

 

“This is it, guys. This is our Bastille,” Jughead whispered to the group. “No chickening out.”

 

It was late at night. The campus was being patrolled by campus guards, but other than that, it was empty. The library was quiet, but the four managed to sneak in without causing a ruckus. The light from their flashlights sliced through the darkness as they entered through the heavy entrance door. They split themselves into two groups: Jughead and Joaquin, and Archie and Veronica.

 

Jughead and Joaquin headed towards the South Hall library, while Archie and Veronica walked towards the restricted section. Veronica unlocked the metal gate that separated them from the restricted section. Jughead and Joaquin, with a flashlight in their mouths, started unscrewing the glass of the same vitrines from the tour.

 

———

 

“Excuse me,” the janitor said to two campus guards. “I think I saw some light or movement in the library?”

 

The two guards walked up to the library’s entrance and started unlocking the lock that prevented anybody from coming in during the night.

 

———

 

Veronica threw the metal gate open. An alarm exploded, ringing noisily throughout the quiet library. Veronica and Archie looked at each other in panic. This was unexpected.

 

Jughead and Joaquin finished unscrewing the vitrines as the alarm rang. They jolted, and looked up from the vitrines to each other. What the hell?

 

———

 

The campus guards heard the alarm. There’s something, or someone, in there. They raced to unlock the chains.

 

———

 

Veronica and Archie rushed past the gate and through the restricted area. Veronica shined her flashlight along the stacks until she found a box marked:

  
  
**RESTRICTED CONTENT**

Contents pertaining to

nymphomania, orgies,

sexual perversion.

 

Veronica emptied the box and tossed the books to Archie. They did the same to other boxes that contained similar materials. They ran back to the other two with Archie carrying a stack of books. The vitrines are now empty, the previous books stacked neatly on to a nearby table. He passed them to Joaquin, who whispered, “What just happened?”

 

They quickly flipped through pages, replacing the university’s prized possessions with opened books that contained vulgar images and sexual information.

 

The alarm stopped.

 

“We know you’re here!”

 

 _Shit_. Everybody looked at each other, unsure of what to do. “C’mon,” Joaquin whispered to the group.

 

Jughead and Archie closed the glass lip of one of the vitrines. Luckily, the other one hasn’t been opened yet. The footsteps were getting closer, and the boys and girl raced back to the door from they came through.

 

All except Jughead. He ducked behind the vitrine, clicking his flashlight off. The guards entered the room.

 

“Jug? Veronica, what the hell? It’s locked,” Joaquin said quietly. He and Veronica started fumbling around the door, trying to get it opened. They were at the card catalogue area. Archie turned, noting that Jughead’s missing.

 

———

 

“Shh. This way,” one of the guards whispered.

 

Jughead breathed from his mouth, and grasped the flashlight. The guards stepped past Jughead and stopped. Lucien ducked, and moved to the side of the vitrine swiftly. The guards started to walk away. Jughead released the breath he didn’t realized he was holding.

 

———

 

The three who managed to escape (sort of) walked by the side of the stacks. Veronica peeked from the side.

 

“I think they’re this way,” one guard said. “We know you’re here!’

 

“Come out!” the other said. The guards roamed their flashlight around the hall.

 

Joaquin threw his flashlight to another room, making a loud enough clatter to attract the attention of the two guards. The guards started running towards the direction of the thrown flashlight. The three of them ran off to the main entrance, leaving the library, except for Archie, who turned to Jughead. Jughead continued to replace the books, determined to get their mission finished. Archie stalked towards Jughead.

 

“Jug, that’s enough! What’s wrong with you?” He started to pull Jughead away from the unopened vitrine. “Come on.”

 

Jughead wouldn't budge, his expression deadly serious. “Not yet. We have to finish.”

 

Archie ran away. Jughead watched him before he was grabbed by the guards. They started to drag Jughead away. “Enough now, it’s over!”

 

“Let me go!”

 

“Raise your hands.”

 

“Archie!” Jughead struggled, enraged. “Let go! Let… Archie! Get off me!”

 

Archie stopped, terrified. He darted his eyes around the room, and landed on a console of switches on the wall.

 

“Archie! Archie!?”

 

He desperately reached for them, and flipped them all on. All the lights in the whole library switched on all at once. It was blinding. The guards squinted, looking for Archie.

 

Archie threw down all the switches. The library plunged into the dark once more. Jughead wriggled out from the vulnerable guards, and ran. Archie joined him, and the two reunited men runs towards the library doors. The guards gave a chase.

 

Jughead pressed against the exit doors. They’re locked. The guards saw them stuck between the two sets of doors, and ran after them. Archie blocked the doors with his shoulder, preventing the guards from going any further. Jughead rattled with the door knobs as the guards pounded on the doors.

 

The sound of a padlock unlocking from outside. Suddenly, the exit doors open, revealing Veronica and Joaquin with pick locking gear in hand. They yanked Jughead and Archie out of the library.

 

Joaquin slammed the doors shut, and everyone pushed their weight against them as Veronica wrapped the chains back on the handles and locked it.

 

“Open this fucking door right now! Open the fuck up! Open the…”

 

The four of them raced down the steps of the library, accomplishing the mission.

 

———

 

“The South Hall library is a church, and these are the sacraments,” the same tourist guide repeated to a different group.

 

The guide looked down, only to see that the books have been replaced. _Ulysses. Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Billy Budd and Benito Cereno_. A tourist leaned over the vitrine, only to see a drawing where there is a naked woman lying on an animal. The tour guide stared at the vitrine, scandalized and confused. The others seemed to notice what was going on.

 

“Oh. My. God,” the tour guide muttered.

 

There was a tiny note left on the glass: “the new vision.”

 

 _Tropic of Cancer_  by Henry Miller was included there, too.

 

———

 

“To literacy.” Jughead raised his shot.

 

“To literacy,” everybody repeated. They clinked their shots and downed their drink. Kevin shook his head.

 

“You guys are insane,” he said. Joaquin smirked.

 

“Yeah, but you love us.” Kevin snorted.

 

“I’m surprised you guys managed to survive. You risked your lives for some juvenile prank.”

 

“I was so sure that Archie and Jughead would have died,” Veronica piped. “Praise God, they’re alive.”

 

“Your library hijinks made the morning paper. I’m sure you’re all very proud.”

 

“I wonder who told the guards?” Archie asked.

 

“Probably the janitor,” Jughead said.

 

Archie chuckled, and looked up at the walls. The wall contained framed newspaper clippings and old sports teams. There was a black and white picture of a football player whom Archie recognized immediately.

 

“Is that Jason Blossom?”

 

Everyone turned their heads to look at the picture. “Yep,” Veronica said. “They still won.”

 

“Look at them,” Jughead said, pointing at the wall of pictures. All of the men in the pictures appeared to plaster a fake smile. “Souvenir history. To make people think they left some mark on the world. Because otherwise, nobody would ever know. I never wanna end up on that wall,” Jughead ended. He sipped on his glass of beer.

 

“Have no fear, you never will,” Joaquin said, and Jughead smiled at that.

 

Comfortable silence fell around them.  _Betty would’ve liked them_ , Archie thought.  _I wonder how she’s holding up._

 

“What’re you thinking about, Arch?” Joaquin asked.

 

“Maybe he’s thinking that we should have another round,” Jughead said. He stood up from the table and asked for more shots at the bar. Everyone chattered amongst themselves. Archie watched them fondly.

 

_She would’ve loved them._

 

———

 

“And go!” Joaquin yelled.

 

They were at the riverside park again, but on the more fenced area. Joaquin crouched inside an empty barrel. Jughead, feeling trashed, kicked the barrel down a grassy slope.

 

“Oh… my God!”

 

Jughead laid next to Archie on the grass. They watched the barrel roll down the slope. “Joaquin! Joaquin!” Jughead called out.

 

“Oh, God!”

  
  
“Joaquin!” The barrel hit the railings, a loud  _thud_  echoing in the night sky.

 

“Ow!”

 

“He broke his fucking neck,” Jughead laughed. “The warrior poet has passed on!”

 

Archie shook his head, amused. Joaquin staggered out of the barrel, and threw his arms up victoriously. Jughead and Archie cheered.

 

“He lives!” Archie cried out.

 

“Excellent!”

 

“Judges award a…” Jughead looked at Archie.

 

Archie held his hands out like he was holding a sign up. “Nine!”

 

Joaquin fell on his knees, groaning. He then fell to his back, and the other two cracked up. Jughead turned to Archie. “Alright, Archie, your turn.”

 

Archie stood up, and immediately stumbled. He laid back down. “Ah… No. No, no no.”

 

Jughead gazed at Archie. “This is just the beginning, you know?” He laid his head on his shoulder, and closed his eyes. “You’re fault, Archie. It’s all your fault.”

 

Archie stared at Jughead, and looked around the park. No one was up at this late of night, so the park was empty. Joaquin probably passed out on the grass, next to the barrel.

  
Archie grazed his hand on Jughead’s chin. Jughead looked at his hand curiously, and back at Archie. “First thought, best thought,” Archie whispered.

 

Archie leaned over and kissed him. Jughead pulled back, unsure, then returned the kiss. Archie cradled Jughead’s face, pulled him deeper into the kiss. He didn’t mind Jughead’s slightly chapped lips, and Jughead moaned quietly. Jughead shifted closer to Archie, brushing his thigh against his and—

 

“I think I just puked on the inside.”

 

They abruptly pulled away from each other as they noticed Joaquin stumbling up the slope. The moment has been shattered. Archie glanced at Jughead.

 

“Let’s go, Joaquin.” Archie watched Jughead stand up on his feet and brushed himself off. He staggered towards Joaquin.

 

“Wait, Arch, are you coming?” Joaquin asked.

  
  
Archie didn’t get to answer, because Jughead said, “No, Archie’s got work to do.” Archie looked at him with a heartbroken look. Joaquin didn’t seem to catch it. “Ten pages on Spengler's ‘Decline of the West.’ Due tomorrow.”

  
  
“Excuse me?” Archie asked, incredulous.

 

Jughead opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say. They both know that Jughead didn’t start his, either.  “I’d be lost without you, Archie.” He turned to Joaquin. “Come on, you snake.”

 

Joaquin slung an arm around Jughead’s shoulders and the two of them left. Archie, feeling abandoned and broken, looked down on his lap. He felt hot tears run down his face, and he wiped them away. “Fuck!”

 

———

 

Jughead was shoving anything he could find into a sack. Archie walked in, and he shifted his attention to him. “Jug?”

 

Archie held out a folder. It contained ten pages of Spengler’s “Decline of the West,” written by Archie but signed in Jughead’s name. “Your paper.”

 

Jughead didn’t say anything. He just looked at the folder and picked the nearest piece of clothing to bury in his sack. Archie took notice. “Where are you going?”

 

“Sailing out,” Jughead replied. He walked over to his desk and picked up the empty notebook. He threw the notebook in the sack. “To Paris. We’re gonna make a ship as merchant seamen.”

 

Archie looked at him, feeling betrayed. Jughead continued, “Joaquin knows the tricks.”

 

“But you weren’t gonna tell me?” Archie’s lower lip started to quiver.

 

“We both know why you can’t come.”

 

Archie looked hurt, and Jughead turned away to continue packing. He sat on Jughead’s bed, and covered his mouth with his fist. “Fuck you!”

 

Jughead resumed packing, not saying anything. “You’re a phoney. And you got me, and Joaquin, and Veronica making your vision come true because you can’t do it yourself.”

 

“No, Archie!” Jughead snapped. “You got what you wanted! You were ordinary, just like every other freshman! And I made your life extraordinary. Go be you now all by yourself! Leave me alone!”

 

Archie had tears slowly making their way down his face. “You don’t mean that,” he whispered.

 

“Archie!” Archie flinched.

 

“Please…”

 

Jughead looked down at him, starting to crack. “Leave.”

 

It was said so quietly, but Archie heard it loud and clear. He glared at Jughead before standing up, covering his mouth with his hands. He looked at him one last time, before walking out of the dorm room with a heavy heart and a broken expression.

 

Jughead started to whimper.

 

———

 

Archie sat on the porch of the Cooper’s household. He stared blankly on the road, listening to some dog bark down the street and kids playing outside. The front door creaked open, and he didn’t look up at Betty, who walked up to him and sat beside him. He did turn to her once she sat down, and he pulled her into a hug.

 

“How are you doing?” Archie asked once they’ve pulled away.

 

“I’m doing fine. Mom lets me visit her, at least.”

 

“That’s good to hear.” They sat together in silence, hearing the leaves rustle on the trees. It was nearing fall, and thea bright, green leaves are now yellow and red here in Riverdale.

 

“How’s Columbia?”

  
  
“It’s fine. Made some friends, doing okay.” He wanted to say more, but he’d rather not.

 

Betty studied his face. “Something’s bothering you.”

 

“What?”

 

“What are you thinking about, Archie?”

 

Archie averted his eyes and took a deep breath. “My friend’s going away,” he confessed in a hushed whisper. He was afraid of how Betty was going to react if he told her the truth. “I did something, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me anymore.”

 

Betty’s expression didn’t change. “It’s the same man from when you came to visit the other day, huh?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Where is he going?”

 

“He’s joining the Merchant Marines with his buddy until the war’s over.”

 

Betty playfully smacked him on the head. “Well, you better catch up if you want to meet him before they leave.”

 

Archie gave Betty a small smile. “How’s Polly?”

 

———

 

Jughead and Joaquin waited in a long line of young soldiers waiting to ship out. The room buzzed with background chatter, and the duo reached the front of line. The billeting officers called out to them.

 

“Let me see your papers.”

 

“Two seamen reporting for duty,” Jughead said as Joaquin handed the paperwork to the officer. The officer turned to Jughead.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

“Arthur Rimbaud,” Jughead replied without hesitation. Joaquin nodded along and rolled his eyes.

 

“Go upstairs to get to the docket.” The officer handed the paperwork back to Joaquin.

 

“Let’s go to the docket.”

 

Joaquin nudged Jughead, and they noticed a familiar man descending down from upstairs. “Archie?”

 

“Let me handle this.” Jughead walked towards Archie, his beanie hanging crookedly on his head. “What do you want, Archie?”

  
  
“I need to talk to you.”

 

Jughead turned to Joaquin, who motioned him to continue talking. “Come with me,” Jughead said to Archie. “We’re taking a walk.”

 

———

 

Archie and Jughead walked side-by-side by the riverside park. “Well?”

 

Archie snapped out of his thoughts. “Huh?”

 

“Are we just taking a stroll of you’re actually going to talk?”

 

“Oh,” Archie mumbled. “Why did you run away?”

 

“From what?”

  
  
“From me.”

 

Jughead’s didn’t answer. He pulled out a flask from his coat pocket and took a swig from it. Archie spoke, “You’re scared.”

 

Jughead scoffed. “I’m not afraid of anything. Just look at what we have accomplished.” He pulled his beanie down to his ears. Archie caught him by the shoulders, forcing Jughead to face him.

 

“No. You’re scared of  _feeling_.” Jughead winced slightly under Archie’s stare. “That someone will hurt you. That they’ll leave you, like what your mother did.”

  
  
“Don’t fucking bring her into this,” Jughead gritted out. He sighed defeatedly. “Fine. I ran because I was scared. Our relationship was supposed to last for a few moments. I didn’t intend for this to go longer than I expected, and… fall for you during the process.”

 

They went quiet when a passerby walked past them. “We can’t be talking about this out here in public,” Jughead murmured. “Let’s go to my dorm.”

 

———

 

They entered Jughead’s dorm room, and everything was exactly where he left it, except the clothes that has invaded the space has decreased drastically. Jughead dumped the sack on the floor, closed the door behind him, and made his way towards the bed. Archie locked the door for privacy. Jughead fell face first on the mattress, and Archie sat on the other side.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jughead said sincerely. “I was so focused about my feelings that I didn’t realize how it must have affected you.”

 

Archie said nothing, and laid on the bed next to Jughead. “Come here,” Jughead whispered.

 

He shuffled closer to Jughead, feeling skeptical. “I don’t bite,” Jughead muttered. “Unless you want me to.”

 

Archie’s face heated as Jughead placed a blanket around them, and wrapped his arms around Archie’s waist. Archie froze, even though he felt Jughead’s body heat. “Hopefully you don’t hog the blanket.”

 

They fell into comfortable silence. Archie was curious, and asked, “What did I taste like?”

 

“You tasted like a first time,” Jughead mumbled sleepily. He inched closer to Archie. “... and I want my whole life to be composed of them.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully you guys enjoyed this. i felt really nervous on posting this, and i reread this probably twice so that it's ok to post. if you see any mistakes or something, feel free to tell me so that i could improve it or something
> 
> i've been wanting to do this idea since it popped my mind, but i didn't bother writing it until i got my ao3 invite. kill your darlings is a good movie, in my opinion. it's on netflix if you're interested
> 
> hoepfully i did a decent job lol


	2. extra info!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> join me in this learning experience! lol

This is a chapter about the books/works mentioned in the fic, such as Beowulf and Tropic of Cancer. I searched them up out of curiosity, and I decided to add a chapter here so just in case anyone's curious, they could go here. Oh yeah, and a couple of extra stuff.

 

A  **vitrine** is a glass display case. The more you know!

 

 **Beowulf** is an Old English epic poem that consists 3,182 alliterative lines. It also may be the oldest surviving old poem in Old English and is cited as one of the most important of Old English literature. The author was an anonymous Anglo-Saxon (people who inhabited Great Britain in the 5th century) poet, and the poem is set in Scandinavia.

 

 **Hamlet**  is a tragedy written somewhere around 1599 and 1602. It's full name is _The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark_ , and it written by William Shakespeare, you know, the guy who wrote _Romeo and Juliet_. Hamlet is iconic, apparently, but I haven't read it yet.

 

 **The Gutenberg Bible**  was the first major book printed in the West with movable metal type. In the 1454 or 1455, books were either copied by hand or printed from engraved wooden blocks, and of course, that could take months or years to complete. The Gutenberg Bible contains the Latin version of the Hebrew Old Testament and the Greek New Testament. The person who created this was Johann Gutenberg.

 

The poem Jughead was reciting during the tour is in the book  _Tropic of Cancer._

 

 **Tropic of Cancer**  is a novel by Henry Miller. It's been described as "notorious for its candid sexuality." It was first published in 1934 in Paris, France, but this edition was in the United States. In 1964, the U.S. Supreme Court declared the book non-obscene. It is regarded as an important work of 20th-century literature.

 

 **A Vision**  is a novel by W. B. Yeats. It was privately published in 1925. It's a book-lengthy study of various philosophical, historical, astrological, and poetic topics.

 

 **Johannes Brahms** was a German composer in the 1800's. He can be viewed as a protagonist of the Classical tradition. He was an accomplished composer by his teenage years, and died due to cancer in 1897.

 

The poem Jughead and Veronica recited together was Ogden Nash's response to Dorothy Parker's " _Men seldom make passes / At girls who wear glasses."_

 

 **Dada** was an artistic and literary movement that began in Zürich, Switzerland in 1916. Artists such as Salvador Dali and many others were part of the movement. Its output was widely diverse, ranging from performance art to poetry, photography, sculpture, painting, and collage.

 

The poem Jughead was reciting while they were on the street was Arthur Rimbaud's _A Season in Hell_. 

 

 **A Season in Hell** is an extended poem written and published 1873. It was the only work Rimbaud has published himself.

 

I couldn't find the poem or work Jughead was referencing when they were standing on chair with nooses on their necks.

 

The 'pile of paper on Archie's lap' was Jack Kerouac's rough draft of his novel  _The Sea Is My Brother._  Kerouac was in  _Kill Your Darlings_ , but I replaced him with Joaquin for the sake of the fic.

 

 **The Sea Is My Brother** is published in 2011 (6 years ago!). It remained unpublished for years due to Jack's dissatisfaction of the novel. The plot and characters are based on Kerouac's experience in the United States Merchant Marines during World War II.

 

The poem Archie wrote was made up. One of the lines, "You are not in Wonderland," were from one of Allen Ginsberg's early pieces. Kill Your Darling's co-writer Austin Bunn remixed the poem and he said that that scene was the toughest one to write.

 

 **The Day Amanda Came** is a  _children's_ book by C. T. Reeves. When I searched it up, I actually laughed.

 

 **Ulysses** is a novel published in 1904 by the author James Joyce. It is considered to be one of the most important works of modernist literature. It has eighteen parts and about 265,000 words in total.

 

 **Lady Chatterley's Lover** is a novel published in 1928 by the author D. H. Laurence. It's about the physical and emotional relationship between a man and woman, and contains explicit descriptions of sex.

 

 **Billy Budd and Benito Cereno** is the final novel by Herman Melville and it was published in 1924. It's basically a story about a sailor and it's a sea story.

 

 **Decline of the West** is published 1922 by the author Oswald Spengler. It involves the rejection of the Eurocentric view of history. It talks about how cultures have lifespans, and how it has a thousand years of flourishing and a thousand years of decline.

 

That's all I could find. Hopefully this was a good learning experience for you, even though it's boring in my opinion :P

 


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